365 Days of Fantasy

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Goblin Tree

Once, a goblin stole whatever he could from a human village, jewels, apples, and buttons. He was lean-limbed with fierce gold eyes, but his hands, though slender, were like talons.

His one weakness was a human woman. When their love became known, the village threatened her if he did not surrender himself. He surrendered. I can’t tell you how many different ways they tried to kill him, but nothing harmed him. So they buried him alive. Some say these gnarly roots evoke the goblin’s reaching hands, clawing for escape.

“Ugh. Mommy.”

I ruffled the little girl’s hair fondly. “It’s true.”

She turned. “Is it true, Daddy?”

He held up his hands playfully, crooking them. “Oh aye, don’t you see the resemblance? It’s a good thing I cut my nails.”